


Another Sick Fic

by Asynchronous



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: M/M, Multi, Sickfic, all the bad is temporary don't worry, negative outlook on life, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynchronous/pseuds/Asynchronous
Summary: The Sides aren't themselves when they're sick.





	Another Sick Fic

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just meaningless fluff. Ignoring the fact that they shouldn't logically be capable of getting sick. This is a polyam fic because I could not resist, but the interactions are all one-on-one, so... sorry if your ship is not featured.
> 
> (Alternative title: I can't write Patton so I wrote anti-Patton instead.)

The sides aren't themselves when they're sick.

*** 

Virgil is usually the first to fall ill. His constant vigilance takes a toll on his health, and he's more susceptible than the rest of them. No one is ever really surprised when he walks into the common area with a sniffle.

They never quite get used to how he acts, though.

"Hhhhhhhiiiiiiii, Princey," Virgil giggles from the couch as Roman makes his way down the stairs.

"Oh, dear, you're sick again, aren't you?" Roman bounces down the last few steps and places a hand on Virgil's forehead. "Yep. Burning up. Guess I'd better put you out," he teases.

"You still think I'm hot," Virgil murmurs smugly before erupting into a coughing fit.

Roman rolls his eyes and scoops Virgil into his arms, bridal-style. "Come on, Cough Topic, you need to go to bed."

"Nooooooooo," Virgil whines against Roman's shoulder. "I don't wanna go to bed. That's boringgggggg."

"You need rest, Virgil, you're sick," Roman insists.

Virgil pouts. "Fiiiiiiine. But can you tell me a story?"

"Sure. I'll tell you the story of the time a dashing prince rescued his beloved worrywart boyfriend from the dreaded Sniffle Monster!"

But by the time they make it to the top of the stairs, Virgil is already asleep.

***

Yes, thankfully, the side who gets sick the most often is too delirious and cuddly to mind being sick too much. Unfortunately, this is not the case for Roman, who inevitably catches his boyfriend's illness.

"Um... Roman? May I ask what you're doing... here?" Logan inquires, poking the miserable prince with his foot.

"Well-" Roman is momentarily interrupted by a violent sneeze, "I was going to get some soup, but then I got tired, so." Roman pats the kitchen floor. "Goodnight."

"Oh, I take it you caught Virgil's cold," Logan says sympathetically.

"I think I'm dying," Roman complains.

"Well, okay, I'm glad to see you're still well enough to be dramatic. Come on, sleeping on the kitchen floor is not conducive to getting better. Go to bed and I'll bring you the soup."

Roman groans in protest.

"And we can watch Moana," Logan adds.

Roman keeps groaning, but gets off the floor and slumps his way to his room. Logan grins in self-satisfaction. Another problem solved by Logic.

***

He is not grinning, however, when he is the next to catch the cold.

He had known it was important to avoid too much contact with Roman when he was sick, but he also knew it was important to care for the sick side, and since both options had a degree of logic to them, he had gone with the one that also let him cuddle with the Prince all night. The benefits outweighed the cost, and he'd figured he was probably doomed anyway, living in such close quarters with a sickness making its way through the household.

He doesn't care about any of that "reasoning" now. His head hurts, his chest hurts, his nose won't stop running for even five seconds, and his past self was stupid. He had just picked and chose the facts that he had most wanted to be relevant. Idiot.

He's so out of it, he doesn't even realize he's full-on sobbing until Patton knocks on the door. "Logan? Are you okay in there?"

Well, now Logan's embarrassed. Nice! He sobs harder.

"I'm coming in, okay?" Patton asks, voice full of concern as he opens the door. "Oh, sweetheart," Patton whispers gently as he makes his way to Logan's bed, sitting carefully on the edge. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

Logan's crying causes him to cough violently, and Patton rubs his back until he stops. When he can finally get in enough breath, he whimpers, "I'm just so... stupid!" and starts sobbing all over again.

Patton frowns and pulls him Logan in for a hug. "No, Logan, no. You know that's not true. What brought this on?"

Logan pouts. "I got sick because I spent too much time with Roman. I knew he would get me sick, and I didn't care. Because I'm stupid!" He starts coughing again.

Fortunately, Patton has dealt with this before, and knows that the normally-logical side is easy to sway when he's sick and exceptionally emotional. Patton just has to find the right distraction.

"Shhhhhh," Patton soothes, rubbing Logan's back. "You're not stupid. It was very kind and brave of you to stay with Roman even though you knew you would get sick."

"But I-" Logan begins to protest.

"No buts. That's Roman's department," Patton teases. "C'mon. I know you're very smart, and you know you're very smart. What was it that you were telling me the other day, about urban farming?"

There it is. The spark. The little burst of joy that always adorns Logan's face whenever he gets the privilege of explaining something. If not for the snot and tears covering his face, no one would ever believe he was crying his eyes out just seconds earlier.

"Well," Logan sniffles, "it's a very important topic, of course, because it was only in the 2000s that the world shifted from mostly rural to mostly urban. And historically, farms have been in rural areas, of course, because they take up a lot of space and require soil..."

Patton holds him as he describes every detail about agricultural technology and why it matters, until Logan eventually falls asleep, mumbling and content.

***

With Logan's snot absolutely everywhere, there is really no question over whether or not Patton will get sick, but had Logan been able to think clearly at the time, he never would have let Patton near him. Logan's delirious nature is the kind of thing they can laugh at later, Roman's deflated nature is uncharacteristic but overall harmless, and Virgil's excessively affectionate nature is quite frankly a little endearing. But a sick Patton... A sick Patton is scary.

Virgil finds him sitting outside, shoulders hunched as he pulls blades of grass out from the ground and throws them as far as he can (which is, of course, not very far, due to the physical properties of grass).

"Hey, Pat... What's up?" Virgil says gently as he takes a seat beside him on the grass.

Patton shrugs. "Just pulling out grass."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Is there any particular reason for anything?" Patton rubs his nose aggressively, seemingly angry that the vile liquid has the _audacity_ to leave his nasal passages.

Virgil was probably not the best candidate to find Patton.

"Uh... no, I guess not really," he admits.

"Well then there you go. You can stop asking stupid questions now," Patton grumbles.

Virgil scrunches his face in reluctant agreement. "Touche."

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, before Virgil finally gathers up the courage to speak again. "I know you're busy being angsty, and far be it from me to interrupt a good angst session, but... It's July, man. We're in Florida. You probably shouldn't be out here when you're sick."

"You can't tell me what to do," Patton bristles.

"You're right! You are totally right. I shouldn't have intruded. I'm just gonna... I'm just gonna go now," Virgil says apologetically, standing to go back inside. But before he can take a single step, he feels a hand around his wrist.

"No. Wait. I'm sorry. Please don't go," Patton says quietly, staring at the ground.

Virgil gasps softly in surprise. "Uh... yeah, of course. But... I'm gonna go get some juice, alright? And I'll be right back. I just. Want you to stay hydrated."

Patton reluctantly releases his grip. "Alright."

Virgil jogs inside, grabs two juice pouches from the refrigerator, and returns to their spot in the backyard, handing Patton one of the pouches. Patton doesn't speak, but simply leans on Virgil's shoulder and sips on the juice. After about 40 minutes, the pouch falls out of Patton's hand, and Virgil notices that he's snoring softly. So he picks him up, carries him to bed, and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Hope you feel better soon, Patton," he whispers, and he thinks he sees Patton smile just a little.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
